


The Name

by judelaw



Category: The Young Pope (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 01:38:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10322567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judelaw/pseuds/judelaw
Summary: "Not them. Me. And now I'm the Pope."





	

_Not them._

**“Lenny Belardo.”**

_Me._

His name echoed through the quiet hall, repeated by the tall and old walls it encountered. Not by the cardinals. Or God.   
Not even by himself.   
  
When the sound finally quietened, it was completely still. Like God has just left the very place, He was needed in the most.

_Me._

The cardinal’s faces were painted with an uncertain expression, debating within themselves whether to be satisfied or upset with final outcome fourth ballot. Most seemed to be stuck somewhere in between.

But one face was clearly indicating anger and confusion, as Cardinal Spencer slowly realized that the just called name wasn’t his, but the one of his former student. That little, naïve boy, that didn’t know shit about how the conclave works, somehow won.

And there was a face, which conveyed nothing at all. No emotion. No expression. Lenny Belardo’s face was blank and as quiet as the hall. And godforsaken.

The face of the new pope.

The echo, died down a long time ago, finally reached the darkest parts of his conscience. And it hit him. Hard.

He was the pope.

He won the Conclave.

_He was the pope._

Lenny Belardo, the outsider no one ever really got to know, no one ever really cared to get to know. The longshot.  
  
The weak boy, who one day was suddenly left alone in the world, in front of a giant iron gate, separating his old life from the new.

The hardworking man, who never slept and became a cardinal at the age of 42. Who was now five years older. And the pope.

Focused on praying, on repeating the words _“Not them. Me.”_ over and over again, like a mantra - or broken record - whatever applied to the situation more in that moment, he didn’t prepare for this. Unlike Spencer, who most likely had already written down his first address, if not even the following ten, he never thought of this moment.

And how he would react.

Let alone how he would feel.  
  
And then it was suddenly there. His name.

He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Or if he was feeling anything at all.

Just standing there, in front of the blood red ocean of cardinals, he felt surrounded by them. A big wall, without any iron gate, keeping him out. Away from his new life. But also unwilling to let him return to his old one. An obstacle to overcome.

He looked at Spencer, his mentor, for a brief moment, unsure why, knowing he wouldn’t get the kind of support he was secretly wishing for.   
  
Encountering only the anger, he looked at the other candidate, Andrew Dussolier, his friend, who was even more of an outsider than him. Both two children, now on their own, one a winner and one a loser but both lost in this great hall. And the world.

No one reacted.  
  
Not even Lenny.

Time seemed to have slowed down, but everything was happening so fast.

The echo of his name died in an instant, yet lasted for ever.

Only now he realized how fast his heart was pounding, he almost felt like he could hear his pulse, the proof he was still alive. The proof God still didn't leave him.

_He was the pope._

Not Spencer, not Andrew, not any other cardinal.

He, _Lenny Belardo._

But from now on, he would no longer be Lenny Belardo, the orphan. The motherless, fatherless boy, who was wandering around, unsure where to find his place in this world. Where to find the love he was looking for. Where to find God.   
  
From now on he was the pope.

He never thought about how he would feel as the pope. But he did think about his new name.

The new person he would be.

The person God would finally grant the wish, the miracle he’s been longing for all his life.

He broke through the wall. Everyone, still looking at him, eagerly waiting to see, _who_ , if not Lenny Belardo, was standing right in front of them.

Everyone wanted to see who he is. Even Lenny wanted to see who he is.  
  
And they all wanted to know what pope they have just chosen.

It was very still.  
  
Until an echo filled the air of this godforsaken place.

_Not them._

**“Pius XIII.”**  
  
_Me._


End file.
